(for disclaimer, etc. - see chapter 1)

Chapter 3 - 16th November 2011

It was one heck of an adjustment, which he supposed was to be expected. Bucky never doubted that a lot would change in the world in almost seventy years, he had just assumed that, if he made it through the war, he would be aging along with everything else. Being essentially flung forward in time was a shock to the system, but after the kinds of unspeakable things he and Steve had faced, fighting the Nazis and HYDRA both, he figured technical advancements and such should be easy street by comparison.

After just a few weeks living in 2011, Bucky had mastered both the new-fangled television set and the microwave oven. He liked the former more than the latter, truth be known, but either way he was coping okay with both. Everything out in the world being so bright and loud and such took a little more getting used to. There were just that many more things wanting to give him a headache, but the doc assured him that was normal. He and Steve had attended medical assessments a couple of times already, with Fury standing by, stoic as the first day they met him. So far, no problems, just the usual super soldier abilities.

What came that much harder for two boys from 1940s Brooklyn was the people they had lost. Many a good man fell on the battlefield of war, it was to be expected, but in their absence, Steve and Bucky realised that almost every person they had ever known was now aged beyond reason or gone altogether. If they managed to track down any old buddies from the war, they would be ninety if they were a day. It was just too sad to contemplate.

Bucky felt worse for Steve than he did for himself. The poor guy had more to lose, after all. Agent Carter was always professional around Bucky and he afforded her the same courtesy. Obviously, he had a few thoughts that were to be expected from a guy like him around a dame like her, but it was something and nothing to him. Just another good-looking girl who also happened to be able to kick ass, apparently. It was different for Steve.

As the plane went down, Bucky had stood by and listened with regret as his best friend made a date with his one true love that they all knew would never happen. It was the only time Bucky ever heard Peggy Carter's voice break like that. It was the last thing he figured he would ever hear in his life. When he and Steve woke to the new world in the twenty-first century, there was an obvious question to be asked - was Peggy still around?

Maybe it would have been kinder if the answer had been no. Bucky figured if Steve had to mourn his lady love, he would do it and move on, in time. Instead, Fury informed them both that she was still very much alive, albeit not in the best of health.

"I have to see her."

"Steve, think about this..."

Bucky ought to have known trying to reason with the guy wouldn't do any good. He was sure in Steve's position, he would probably feel exactly the same, but then, he had never really been in love, so he couldn't actually say for sure. Given the look on Steve's face, both in their meet-up with Peggy and now it was over, Bucky was very glad the bug never bit him up to now.

"You doing okay?"

He hadn't liked to ask the question before, unsure the answer would be anything he wanted to hear. Bucky didn't know how to make this better. It wasn't a problem he could fix with a well-placed punch or a clever remark. This was deep and serious and sad, in a way he had no concept how to fix.

Steve sighed and shook his head as they ascended the last flight of stairs to their apartment. "I don't know, Buck. I had to see her, you know I did, but she's..."

"Yeah, I know." He nodded, knowing there weren't words and didn't really need to be.

Even for Bucky himself, it had been a shock to the system. He was expecting Peggy to look different, more like someone's grandma than any girl that guys like them would take out dancing, but it was more than that. Her spirit may not be broken, but it wasn't what it used to be. Something in her eyes was just gone, disconnected, lost. She wasn't the same woman she had been all those years ago, which Bucky supposed was to be expected, but for him and Steve, who hadn't lived through all that time in-between, only woken to a new world what felt like a day later, it was tough.

"Hey, how about we find some old movie on the television and I make some of that crazy popcorn stuff. We'll close all the blinds, make believe we're back at that old theatre we used to go to when we were kids."

Steve raised a smile for that idea. "Thanks, Bucky," he said, his hand on his shoulder. "I honestly don't know how well I'd be handling all this if you weren't here too."

"Hey, you're Captain America," he reminded him with a smile. "You woulda been just fine."

He watched Steve open up the apartment door to go inside, heaving another sigh as he did so. Bucky was about to follow, when suddenly he heard movement on the stairs. Turning to look, he caught sight of red hair appearing from the floor below, then the whole figure of one Natalie Rush

"Hey, neighbour," he greeted her, with a cheery wave. "Here, let me help you out with that," he offered, rushing to take the over-filled basket out of her hands.

"Thanks," she said, smiling back at him.

Bucky was sure he heard Steve muttering how some things never changed, and had no doubt those words were accompanied by an eyeroll, though he never bothered to look. All his focus was on Natalie, which was as it should be, he thought.

"I guess the downside to nursing is all the extra laundry," he said, following her to her door.

"Things do tend to get a little messy in my line of work," she said, smiling as she unlocked her door. "You know, I think I can manage from here," she added then, reaching to take the basket back from his hands.

"Do I make you that nervous?" Bucky asked her, though he was sure that wasn't it.

Natalie was a real modern girl, that much was for certain, and as fiery as any redhead he had ever known. She would take his compliments with thanks, but that was all. He did try to ask her out a couple of times already, and although she smiled, she was very definite about saying no.

"I'm not really the nervous kind," she said, in answer to his question, pulling the basket from his hands before he could even try to stop her. "But it's like I told you before, Mr Barnes, you're really not my type."

She headed inside her apartment, leaving Bucky leaning on the wall, staring after her.

"You know, one day you're at least going to break down and call me Bucky."

"Hmm, I don't really see that happening," she insisted, shaking her head and making the curls in her hair bounce around her pretty and still smiling face. "That's not your real name, right? No offence, but it sounds a little juvenile for a grown man."

He might have been hurt by her insulting his nickname, but Bucky was more focused on the way she looked him over when she noted how much of an adult male he was.

"James," he told her then. "My full name is James Buchanan Barnes."

Natalie nodded in understanding, clearly seeing now where the nickname she didn't care for came from.

"Well, thank you for your help, but I really need to put this stuff away and then get some sleep. I'll be working tonight, so..."

"So, I should..." he gestured towards the opposite door, which Steve had left ajar yet. "I guess I'll see you around, Natalie," he said, pushing off the wall and heading for his own place.

"Goodnight, James."

By the time he turned back, she had already closed her door, but the way she said his name was burned into his brain forever. Walking into the apartment, he flung the door shut with a clang and sighed. "She is really something else."

"Technically, you're old enough to be her grandfather," said Steve smartly.

"Yeah, well, technically, we should be dead," he countered without pause. "The world has changed, Stevie, and that means we have to change with it."

"That's easier said than done," his friend remarked, even as he flipped through a multitude of television stations, so fast it made Bucky dizzy to look at the screen.

Heading for the kitchen, he looked for the popcorn he had promised to make and once again faced the microwave oven with distaste. It was convenient, which seemed to be the earmark of most of the inventions so popular in modern days, but Bucky wasn't a huge fan, truth be told. He supposed it was just one more thing he was going to have to get used to when it came to this new life he and Steve were embarking on.

"Gotta be easier than dealing with the love of your life being over ninety," he told himself in a low voice, hitting the button on the boxy little device and watching the food within in go around and around and around.

Distraction made trauma easier to deal with, and Steve couldn't deny, the modern age was chock-full of some very interesting and entertaining distractions. The problem was the quiet moments, when all the new wonders of the world had gone dark for the night, and all there was to do was stare at the ceiling and wish sleep would come.

It wasn't easy. Steve found that, most nights, he just wasn't even tired. Perhaps it was his super soldier abilities, maybe it was just the seventy years spent on ice, he wasn't sure, but most nights he lay awake far too long, with too many thoughts in his head.

He wanted to talk to Bucky about it. He was just about the only other person in the world that might understand, but even then, sympathetic as he proved to be, Steve's own situation with Peggy was nothing his friend could fully appreciate. There really was nobody else alive that could know how he was feeling, mourning the loss of a lover who was never really his to claim in the first place, and all in spite of the fact she was still alive.

Getting up out of bed, Steve began to pace the floor, realising too fast he may well wear a steady groove in the carpet if he didn't stop before long. He was full of pent-up energy, he needed to be doing something, anything. Making a quick decision, he pulled on some clothes, threw some things in a bag, and made for the door.

The light came on before he quite made it out into the hallway.

"You too, huh?" said Bucky from behind him.

Steve turned around and realised his buddy was also fully dressed and even had a very similar bag in his hand. They had clearly had the very same thought at the same time. To go make use of the gym around the corner that Fury had scouted for them and assured them was safe and secure to visit whenever they wanted or needed to.

"Have you done this before?" Steve asked Bucky as he met him at the door.

"Not so far," he said, shaking his head, "but I've thought about it."

The two shared a smile, then Bucky opened the door and headed out into the hall. Steve followed, almost running into his back, as a case of seemingly perfect timing had their neighbour, Natalie, appearing on the stairs, headed for her own place.

"You boys are up late... or early?" she tried, eyeing them suspiciously. "Good thing I wasn't sleeping or you might've woken me."

Sporting her work clothes and a tired expression, it was clear she had just returned from a shift at the hospital.

"We were just heading out for some exercise, but we promise to be quiet when we come back, Miss Rush," said Steve politely.

She smiled in response, though there was something like amusement in her eyes, rather than real gratitude. "Good morning, Mr Rogers. James," she said pointedly, nodding at Bucky, then disappearing into her apartment.

"James?" he echoed, smirking in his friend's direction.

"It is my name, remember?" Bucky grumbled, adjusting his grip on the bag he carried and then hurrying for the stairs.

"I know that," Steve agreed, shaking his head and trying not to laugh as he followed his friend down. "I just never thought I'd see the day when you let somebody other than your mother use it!"

To Be Continued...